


Just Like Always

by dragonflysoul



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Season 8, Stargate SG1 - Freeform, awesome jack oneill, whumped daniel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflysoul/pseuds/dragonflysoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Daniel reminisce during less than favorable conditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Always

Title: Just Like Always

Author: dragonfly

Summary: Jack and Daniel reminisce during less than favorable conditions.

Genre: h/c, friendship, humor

A/N: Written for lj friendshipthon prompt: _Jack and Daniel reminiscing._ I hope it fills the prompt okay. It’s been so long since I’ve written Jack and Daniel. Endless love to devra for her help and input. All mistakes left are mine.

~*~

“Ack! Don’t say it,” Jack warned.

“What?”

“‘ _This reminds me of the time…’”_ that’s what. You know you were going to.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was—” Grunting, Daniel’s knees gave way, but Jack’s arm around his waist kept him from falling. “—not,” he insisted with a grimace.

Jack rolled his eyes, but helped his friend to a nearby log. “Let me take a look.”

“It’s fine. We need to keep moving, Jack.”

“What we _need_ is to keep you from bleeding to death, Daniel. Now sit still.” Pulling out a handkerchief, Jack knelt in front of him and applied pressure to the wound over the already soaked gauze just above his knee. Hissing, Daniel writhed under his hands.

“Easy,” Jack soothed apologetically. “What the hell kind of weapon was that, anyway?” For such a primitive group of people, their weapons were anything but. He hated it when that happened. Well, when his team was on the wrong side of those weapons…or any weapon for that matter.

“I don’t know, Jack,” Daniel answered irritably, “I forgot to ask them while we were running for our lives.”

“ _Touchy_.”

Bending forward at the waist, Daniel bowed his head. “Sorry.” His voice was thick with pain. His body trembled from the same.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jack couldn’t—or at least didn’t want to begin to imagine how much pain Daniel was in. They’ve been running through thick terrain for nearly half an hour, and Jack hadn’t had the chance to give Daniel any pain medication yet. This was really the first time they’ve gotten to stop since the shit had hit the proverbial fan. “Just hang in there, Daniel. I’ll get you the good stuff in a sec,” he added. What they had of it, anyway. Neither of them had their packs. Daniel didn’t even have his vest.

At some point Daniel’s hands had wrapped around Jack’s wrists in a weak, unconscious attempt to get him to let go of his leg—to get him to stop applying the necessary, but painful pressure. Jack felt the urge to reach up and squeeze the back of his neck—a familiar attempt at comfort, but neither were willing to let go just yet.

From the brief look Jack had gotten earlier, part of the wound looked ragged and torn, and sections looked almost cauterized—though it hadn’t helped slow the bleeding much…neither had their one and only field dressing he had hastily applied earlier.

“This reminds me of the time…” he teased, trying to take Daniel’s mind off the pain.

Huffing a weak laugh, Daniel shook his head—but ended up biting his lip when the mask holding back his anguish nearly slipped.

Seeing his struggle, “Come on, Daniel,” Jack urged gently. “Think.”

“Uh…” Brows pinching together, “It reminds you of the time… I got shot in Honduras getting Telchak’s device,” he guessed in a rush.

“Oh. Uh, no.” Jack had never even considered that one. “Good one, though.”

Daniel’s eyebrows rose.  “We’ve been in a few… _pickles_ , as they say, over the years, Jack.  You’re gonna have to narrow it down a bit.”

Puffing out his cheeks, “Fair enough,” Jack conceded, releasing a breath. “Uuhh, okay, think back to when you first got back from Abydos and stayed with me awhile.”

“Oo…kay…” Though confused, the younger man did just that. It was a few moments before he spoke again. “Jack, there were never any half-naked people—” He paused, a funny look on his face. “Well, unless you count that movie I caught you w—”

“Hey!” Jack warned. “We agreed never to mention that again.”

“Riiight. Sorry.” The distraction had the desired effect, though. Some of the tension had left Daniel’s body and he had let go of Jack’s wrists. He didn’t react when Jack started digging through his pockets one handed looking for his handkerchief.  “Are you talking about the hockey game?” he finally asked, watching Jack wrap his leg with the one he typically used on his head.

Pleased, Jack grinned. “You betchya.”

“Jack, I _sprained_ my knee then.”

“Same difference.”

“Yes, well I can promise you it doesn’t _feel_ the same.”

“Yeah, okay, got me there,” Jack admitted, finishing up his task. “But it was good times, otherwise, right? Your first hockey game. We won. You did good.”

Daniel was opening his mouth to put in his differing two cents about that when they heard movement in the trees. They both reached for their weapons.

The day sure had gone to shit. Hard to believe that they had been preparing for a feast—that they were _apparently_ the guests of honor at—just a few hours ago. If Jack understood correctly, there was even supposed to be pudding. _But_ one tends to lose one’s appetite when not-so-friendlies try to use your best bud’s eyes for a center piece.

Pudding be damned.

When the hunting party ventured closer still, they were forced to move or be caught. Taking Daniel’s hand, he helped him stand, and wordlessly they stepped back into rhythm—winding through the dense foliage with Daniel’s arm over Jack’s shoulder and Jack’s arm around Daniel’s waist.

Daniel recoiled momentarily, though, when they stepped into a small stream.

“Okay, _that’s_ cold,” Jack exclaimed softly, guiding them downstream. The water barely came to their knees, but already weakened by blood loss and shock, Daniel started to shiver. 

As they continued north, the banks on either side of them got higher and the vegetation thicker. Their current position failed epically as a defensible one if they were caught, but it also offered them a degree of cover they’d be hard pressed to find anywhere else.

Nearly a half a mile later, they stepped onto a low section of bank. Jack found a good spot to tuck them in to rest and helped Daniel to the ground. Kneeling beside him, he cursed at the sight of the blood-saturated gauze and handkerchiefs.  “We’ve got to get this bleeding stopped,” he said worriedly, reaching for his belt. “Hey, you with me?” He looked up into the younger man’s face when he remained silent.

“You plied me with coffee and ice cream,” Daniel said with a small smile—as if lost in the memory.

It took a moment for Jack’s mind to catch up. “Yes. And old books that made you sneeze,” he replied easily, tying his belt over the padded wound to keep pressure on it.

Daniel bit back a cry and dug his fingers into the ground.  “Did I…” Panting from the pain, but still focused on a distant time of hockey games, new friends and sprained knees, “Did I ever thank you for that?” he asked.

Jack really needed to get them out of there.  Daniel was slipping deeper into shock.  “Eh, it’s what we do,” he said with a shrug, securing the belt. He’d like to keep to the water, but the rocks made it slow going and the cold was sapping what little energy Daniel had left. Jack wouldn’t bet that they had lost their pursuers for good…but he’d sure as hell hope.

When a violent shiver rippled through Daniel’s frame, Jack automatically reached over to rub his upper arms. “You’d think those guys would at least be a little nippy running around with nothing but loin clothes on,” he stated, pulling Daniel’s BDU shirt together and buttoning it.

Pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses, “Could be warm for them,” Daniel remarked through another shiver and subsequent groan as Jack rolled up his other sleeve to administer the long overdue pain medication.

Once finished, capping the needle, Jack then palmed the top of his friend’s head sympathetically. “Carter and Teal’c should be coming back any minute. They’ll—”

_“Sir, come in.”_

“See. _Told ya.”_ Looking around to make sure their location was still secure, Jack keyed his radio. “O’Neill here.”

_“ **Sir** ,”_ Relief was evident in Carter’s voice. _“What’s your situation? We were attacked coming back through the Stargate.”_

“Yes, well apparently the natives here have just been lulling us into a false sense of security so they could get their hands on Daniel’s eyes.”

There was a moment’s pause. _“Sir?”_

“You heard right, Carter. Apparently _blue_ is _in_ this year.”

_“But…why **Daniel’s** eyes, sir? I’m sure I saw other people in the village with blue eyes.”_

“Not men, apparently,” Jack answered grimly. “You two alright? Stargate secure?”

_“Yes, sir.”_

“Good. Keep it that way. Daniel’s injured. We’re making our way to you.”

_“Sir, Teal’c and I can provide—”_

“Negative, Colonel. I need you and Teal’c to keep the ‘gate cleared. They want Daniel’s, but they might settle for any outsider’s. And in case you have forgotten, Carter….”

_“Understood, sir,”_ was the reluctant reply.

“Maintain radio silence until further notice.”

_“Yes, sir. Carter out.”_

“Come on.” Moving to Daniel’s side, he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back to his feet. Daniel trembled from the effort and ended up grabbing ahold of Jack’s utility vest. “I got ya,” Jack assured, adjusting and tightening his own grip.  

“ ‘m good.”

 “Suuuure. Is that what they’re calling it these days?”  

Daniel’s forehead lightly bumped off of Jack’s shoulder a few times until he gave in and just let it rest there. “Did we lose them?” he asked, winded just from trying to stay upright.

“For now,” Jack answered, resting his chin on top of Daniel’s head—taking comfort as much as he was offering while Daniel dug deep for his reserves. He hated to see his people hurt. He hated it even more when those people were his family. “You ready?” he asked gently, hating to all the same.

“Yeah.” It was an automated, tired response, but Daniel would hold to it. “Still glad you chose today as _Field Trip_ day?” he quipped as he moved away and Jack pulled his arm back over his shoulder.

“Well…I’m not gonna lie,” Jack returned the banter, steering them into the thick of the forest, “but Walter _would be_ bringing me my afternoon hot chocolate right about now….”

~*~

It had been another harrowing twenty minutes of dodging villagers before one of them spoke again.

“Granny O’Neill’s Famous Chicken Noodle Soup.”

“What about it?” Daniel’s voice was beginning to sound as haggard as his body had to be feeling.

“The Thanksgiving after I was recovering from that bugger of a plague—”

“You mean the twenty-four hour fluhalf the SGC had?”

“—you guys came over and watched _The_ _Simpsons_ with me—”

“A day of my life I’ll never get back.”

“—and made me Granny O’Neill’s Famous Chicken Noodle Soup.”

“Oh. Uh…about that…” Daniel grimaced, “been meaning to tell you…”

“What’s that?”

“It was store bought.”

“What?”

“The soup.”

There was a heavy pause. “No way. _Uh-uh._ I’d _know_ the difference. And I could _smell_ you guys making it.”

“Uh, yeah, we just boiled some bouillon cubes.”

Another long uncomfortable pause. “Philistines.”

“Would it make feel any better—” Daniel winced as Jack helped him over a fallen tree in the stream—they were forced back into the water again to avoid detection, “—if I told you the cookies were real?”

“What cookies?”

“Granny’s cookies we made you—when you were laid up for a week with broken ribs from that—uh, fishing incident.” Talking, like everything else, was becoming a strain for Daniel.

“Are you sure you didn’t just…oh, I don’t know, light a scented cookie candle or something?” Jack retorted bitterly, effortlessly taking on more of Daniel’s weight when he slipped on a rock.

“Cross Teal’c’s heart.”

“ _Teal’c’s_?”

“Well, considering—the circumstances,” Daniel replied breathlessly, looking up at Jack even as he started to sag in his arms. “I didn’t want to tempt fate.”

Canting his head to the side, Jack hefted Daniel back up against him. “Anyway,” he continued a few moments later, “the point is; come sprains, half-naked people hell-bent on sacrificing your baby blues in exchange for plentiful crops, or plagues—“

“Flu.”

“—just like always, we’ll make it through.”

“Just like we’ll make it through this?” Daniel was panting now and barely able to hold himself up. Jack eased him down on a large rock and knelt before him. “Hey.” He waited until Daniel’s weary eyes met his, and then he did reach up this time and squeezed the back of his neck. “Just like always.”

Releasing a shaky breath along with his doubts, Daniel closed his eyes and bowed his head. When he nodded, Jack squeezed again in silent support. “Now, let’s get you out of this water before you turn into a popsicle.”

“Popsicle _bad_.” Daniel agreed with a shiver.

The corner of Jack’s mouth turned up fondly at the words. Janet Frasier had warned Daniel about hypothermia—saying the same two words years ago when he had gotten too distracted on an ice planet with SG-11 and came back a little on the chilled side.

Her loss still reverberated through each of their hearts. Not for the first time he wished he were taking Daniel back to her capable hands. “Yeah,” he echoed thickly, “Popsicle bad.”  

~*~

Daniel had limped and stumbled and climbed stoically for another twenty minutes before Jack had made the call and took his glasses, took his weapon, and threw him over his shoulder. He didn’t protest as much as Jack had expected and that worried him. But at least the bleeding had stopped and his leg had good circulation. And another bonus—they were out of the water and hadn’t seen any loin clothes or glow sticks of doom for a while now.

In fact, now was as good a time as any to rest. “Alright, let’s take five.” Easing Daniel to the ground, Jack went down with him—keeping him upright and against his side. “Apple pie,” he then stated, seemingly out of nowhere.  

“Hmm?” Daniel tried unsuccessfully to lift his head from where it was resting on Jack’s shoulder. Honestly, Jack was surprised he was even still conscious. Daniel Jackson Stubbornness at its best.

“Big, hot honkin’ huge piece of apple pie,” Jack clarified, casually resting his arm across Daniel’s shoulder. “That’s what I want when we get back.”

“Mmm piiiie,” Daniel Homer’d into his neck.

Mouth turning up proudly, “Indeed,” he Teal’c’d, before hailing the other half of their team.

_“Thank God, sir. We were getting worried. What’s your situation?”_

“We’re about two clicks south of the ‘gate. I think we might have finally shook Daniel’s fan club.”

“Not _my_ fan club,” Daniel grumbled sleepily.

“Is the ‘gate still secure?”

_“Yes, sir. In fact, we haven’t seen anyone since the sun started to go down.”_

“Afraid of the dark, are they?” Jack quipped sarcastically.

_“I’m not sure, sir. Maybe.”_

“Afraid of the _Nightwalkers_ ,” Daniel mumbled.

“Come again?” Jack had barely heard him.

“Spirits.”

“Daniel seems to think they might have turned tail because of _spirits_ ,” he relayed to Carter and Teal’c, eyes raking in the spectacular sunset over the forest’s valley. “Should we be concerned about these _spirits_?” he then asked Daniel…who just shrugged. _Great._

_“Hopefully that means you and Daniel won’t run into anymore resistance, sir.”_

Daniel nodded against him. “Afraid the spirits will, _“‘tear their souls asunder in the absence of the sun’,”_ he quoted.

“That’s what that honkin’ huge wall in town said?”

“That or, _“‘pluck thy chicken, and bake with sage’.”_ I hadn’t really finished working out the translation yet,” he admitted tiredly, words starting to slur.

Pursing his lips, Jack waged the chances that Daniel’s first guess was accurate. Keying his radio, “Daniel doesn’t think they’ll be back tonight, Colonel,” he went with his gut.

_“That’s good news, sir. Would you like us to rendezvous at your current position?”_

Jack looked down at the man currently using his shoulder as a pillow. Though still awake, he was leaning heavily on him and blinking just as heavily. “Uh, that would be an affirmative, Carter.” Waiting and using a stretcher would be quicker—not to mention easier on him than being thrown back over Jack’s shoulder.

_“ETA twelve minutes, sir.”_

“Roger that.”

“Reminds me of the view from your roof,” Daniel surprised him by saying softly.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, settling in to wait. “We’ve had some good times up there.” Though, he realized then, they hadn’t been up there all that much since he’d been promoted to general.

“Planning Teal’c’s 102th birthday party…” Daniel recalled.

“I _still_ think performing monkeys would have been the way to go,” Jack lamented. He felt Daniel’s grin on his shoulder and longed to keep it there. “Hey, isn’t Siler’s birthday coming up?”

Daniel’s grin grew—no doubt enjoying the thought of an old fashion team powwow on the roof as much as Jack was. Eyes closing, he warned, “ _No_ _monkeys_.”

“Whatever you say, Doctor Jackson.” Jack pulled the younger man closer—to both provide warmth for Daniel and peace of mind for himself. “Whatever you say.”

Vibrant colors stretched across the sky like a hand waving goodbye to the day—and what a long day it had been. But it was over. They were in one piece. And they were going home.  They had made it through. And they would continue to carry each other in any way needed once they got there.

Just like always.

Pulling Daniel closer still, Jack rested his chin on top of his head. “What are your thoughts on clowns?”

-

-

-

The end.

 


End file.
